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Category Archives: Discipleship

After the Spirit

(a sermon for June 16, 2019, the 1st Sunday after Pentecost, based on Acts 2:42-47, 3:1-10)

“…and they lived happily ever after!”  And… Amen!

Now that’s how the story really ought to end, right (?); at least as it pertains to those first few verses of our text for this morning.  I mean, consider the “narrative arc,” if you will, of this part of the biblical story; think for a moment about everything that brought that group of twelve disciples from where they were – that is, as this rather motley assortment of fishermen, tax-collectors, and other assorted outsiders who’d left everything to follow Jesus – to what they are now, the Spirit-filled and Spirit-led Apostles in whom “many wonders and signs are being done,” and by whose proclamation of good news a new church is growing exponentially, to the point where once there were little more than a handful of believers and now – in a single day, no less (!), the day of Pentecost  – “about three thousand persons were added;” and as Luke goes on to tell us, “day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.”

And it’s at this point in this sweeping narrative that Luke began in his gospel and now continues his “Book of Acts” that we’re given this incredible description of Christian community as it was truly lived out in the life of this new church.  We’re told that the believers were all gathered together and that everyone was filled with awe about all the signs and wonders they were witnessing; and along with worship and prayers and “devot[ing] themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship,” they also gave to one another as any had need, and – I love this part – “ate their food with glad and generous hearts.”  It’s worship, it’s fellowship, it’s compassion: from the very beginning these were the marks of the Christian life and to this day remain our model and the ideal of what the church of Jesus Christ is supposed to be.  Or, to put it another way, if I might quote Laura Truman of the Forum for Theological Exploration, “Oh my goodness, it is beautiful.   They are doing theology, they are living together, they are eating together, they are praying together – this is the kind of community that most church leaders would give their left foot for… This story of the beginning of the Church,” she writes, “is just glorious.  This is the Church alive.  This is the Church on the move.”

And so, do you see what I mean when I say that this might well be the place to end the story; that now we’re at the part of the gospel in which we can gaze upon this amazing new church – formed by Jesus Christ himself, crucified and risen, and gathered, led and empowered by his Holy Spirit – and know that from this point on, after everything those apostles had been through and more to the point, through what God had done in the person of the Christ (!) that they could indeed “live happily ever after.”  I mean, if I’m making a movie about this (I guess technically, given it’s about the apostles and their journey after the resurrection, it would be a sequel!), about the time the Spirit has come in all of its power and the believers are “praising God and having the goodwill of all the people,” it would be time to fade out and roll the credits; as I said before, that’s where the story ought to end, right?

Well, if we understand scripture, not to mention the mission of the church, the answer there would be… no.  In fact, it can well be said that “after the Spirit” is when the story begins anew; and in many ways, it’s the place where our story and truly, our mission as believers really comes into focus.

Actually, from a narrative point of view, it’s interesting to note that following this very grand and idealistic view of the beginnings of the Christian church, Luke in his telling of the story sort of pulls back a bit so to tell the story about how “one day Peter and John were going up to the temple at the hour of prayer, about three o’clock.”  So, you see, already there’s a routine developing in the life of the church; and I don’t say that as a negative, nor am I in suggesting that the “wonders and signs” done by the apostles were in any way diminishing, because if you read on in the Book of Acts, you’ll know that this is not the case.  If anything, this “going up to the temple” every afternoon tells us that a discipline of prayer and worship was from the very beginning, as it continues to be, essential to the Christian life.

And so it is on this particular day, we have Peter and John on their way to the temple for afternoon prayer – for “prayer meeting,” The Message calls it – and as they pass through the gate of the temple known as the “Beautiful Gate” they encounter a man “crippled from birth,” [The Message] “asking for alms;” that is, begging passersby for any kind of handout they might we willing to offer him as one poor and needy.  Now, we don’t know much about this man: he’s not given a name nor is there much of a backstory about what’s brought him to this station of life; all we really can glean from the text is that being “lame from birth,” he’d been carried to this gate and placed there for the purpose of begging, and that apparently he’d been doing this for quite some time, because later on we find out that all the people who entered the temple by this so called “Beautiful Gate” had recognized this  man as one of “those people” who were always there on the fringes begging for whatever spare change anybody might give him.  And so likely what he was doing that afternoon was what he always did, which was with eyes to the ground and arms extended crying out… crying out again and again and again for alms… for money… for something, anything that might help.

But whereas most people going to temple that afternoon sought to ignore the beggar’s cries and probably did everything they could to avoid any encounter with him altogether, we’re told that Peter and John heard the man’s cries and stopped; but even more than merely stopping to hear the request, Luke tells us that “Peter looked intently at him, as did John,” and said to this beggar, “Look here…” “Look at us…”   which, as even you and I in these times, was a pretty radical response!   I remember years ago someone I went to school with describing to me of her experience one summer living and working in New York City.  Now, this girl was not only still pretty young, she was also from Maine; and her first instinct on the streets of Manhattan was to smile and say hello to everyone she passed on the street!  But, she explained, that exuberant spirit was short-lived, as very quickly her more streetwise co-worker informed her that the first rule of walking down along a New York City street was not to make eye contact; this, after all, is not Bangor, Maine!  And we understand that, don’t we; especially as it applies to those in this life and in this world that in all honesty we’d rather avoid: from that person across the aisle at the market who makes us feel uncomfortable to the one who’s standing there with the handwritten cardboard sign on the median of Fort Eddy Road; just keep your head down and keep moving, and there’s no problem.

Sadly, that’s too often our attitude, but not Peter and John; they look this beggar square in the eye and pretty much demand that he look back at them in just the same way; thus treating him and engaging him as a person… as the child of God that is rather than the nameless beggar that the world has always perceived him to be.  And then Peter says something very interesting: he says, in the very poetic language of the old King James Version of scripture, “Silver and gold have I none; but such as I have give I thee: In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth rise up and walk.” (Or, if you’d prefer a more contemporary translation, how about this from The Message: “I don’t have a nickel to my name, but what I do have, I give you.”) Either way, Peter then reaches out to this man, this man crippled from birth, pulls him up (!) by his right hand, “and immediately his feet and ankles were made strong.”  So strong, in fact, that the beggar immediately starts leaping and dancing for joy; praising God for all he’s worth and, might I add, totally disrupting any semblance of a serious prayer time that afternoon and astonishing everybody who’d witnessed what happened to this now former beggar there at the Beautiful Gate!

This story from Acts serves to tell us that “after the Spirit” came on the Day of Pentecost and filled them up with its power, the disciples’ story begins anew; with their being called to and given the gift of healing in the name of Jesus.  And moreover, writes Craig Barnes, it’s also a reminder that ultimately, in a multitude of ways – not just physical, mind you, or even financial; but also in the emotional, relational, even spiritual sense – “we’re all beggars, and it’s only in the name of Jesus that we’re going to get back up on our feet again” and we, as believers, have the ability, the call, the power to proclaim that name “that gets people back up on their feet.”  But even beyond all that, friends, what this story proclaims is that all of us – you and me and everyone in this sanctuary, all of us who count ourselves as believers – do have this ministry of healing and of life in Jesus’ name.

After the Spirit, you see, there’s the church of Jesus Christ… and we are the church.

In the end, you see, it’s not about the almsgiving, though in Christian love and creativity, we do do that, and we should; reaching out to those in need, however that may happen, is always to be at the very center of our mission as believers.  But it’s not just about that; likewise, it’s not only about the acts of healing, though I know that there are many of us in this very room, myself included, who can tell the stories of how healing prayers and words and gestures and creative, Spirit-led, actions led to the healing of mind, body and spirit.  It’s not even about the miracle, per se: because, you know what, miracles are not always what they at first seem to be, or not to be; sometimes the miracle with that overwhelming sense of the holy in our midst; in that peace Jesus spoke of that the world can neither give nor take away.  In the end, it’s about this Spirit that all of us have been given and this ministry we share; this calling to be witnesses to all we’ve seen and heard and received, sometimes by what we say, but always by what we do.

And the thing is, we never know exactly how that might unfold until it happens:  we’re having this random conversation with a friends or a co-worker, maybe someone we hardly know, but suddenly they’re pouring out their pain and grief in all its intensity and suddenly the “small talk” has become something much deeper and wholly cathartic.  You’re running an errand or taking care of a long-dreaded chore, and all of a sudden you get this idea that what you’re doing in that moment could be helpful for somebody else whose pride has long prevented them from asking for any kind of assistance.  You’ve been wrestling with some sort of big decision in your life, and trying to weigh how what you’ll do changes things for you; but then you wake up in the dawn of a new day and you’re seeing that choice from a different point of view: maybe that of your children or your family or even how it might affect a hurting world.  Or, could be you’re sitting in this sanctuary this morning, you’ve been singing the songs, you’ve prayed the prayers, you’re wondering if the minister’s ever going to wrap this thing up (!) so you can go to lunch… and in that moment you’re inspired… moved, somehow, to call somebody to go to lunch after worship with you, and maybe then invite them to come to church next Sunday….

…who knows? 

Give alms to the poor; feed the hungry; clothe the naked; visit those in prison; love, cherish and nurture all of God’s children; be kind, for Jesus’ sake!  Just know, beloved, that however it takes shape and form this is our ministry, yours and mine together, and that God’s Spirit comes as we do what we do.  And it is in that ministry that beggars become leapers, and that miracles happen.

I hope and pray that now that Spirit has come, we will be bold to embrace its power to do God’s work in this place and time… always in the healing name of Jesus.

And in that holy name, may our thanks be to God.

Amen and AMEN!

© 2019  Rev. Michael W. Lowry

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Matthias

(a sermon for June 2, 2019, the 7th Sunday of Easter, based on Acts 1:15-17, 21-26)

It is both interesting and very telling to note that the very first thing that the apostles do as a new “church” is to hold a congregational meeting.

Well, not exactly… remember that up till now the eleven, “together with certain women, including Mary the mother of Jesus, as well as his brothers,” (Acts 1:14) were holed up in the so-called “upper room,” devoting themselves to prayer and waiting, as Jesus had directed them, “for the promise of the Father;” (1:4) that is, for their baptism with the Holy Spirit coming “not many days from now.”  But the reality was that even after all the jubilation and excitement that had come about in the lives of the disciples by virtue of Jesus’ resurrection, not to mention having just witnessed the dramatic ascension of their master into heaven, nonetheless there was work that needed to be done, decisions to be made, jobs to be filled and things to get organized!  And so, as Luke describes it in his Book of Acts, they come down from the upper room and gathered together with 120 other believers, settle down to doing some church business; and that business results in the election of a man by the name of Matthias as a “new” Apostle.

And who is Matthias, you ask?  Good question!

In fact, we don’t know all that much about Matthias; he remains one of the great mystery men of the New Testament.  We do know from Acts that Matthias was one of two potential candidates for filling the apostleship of the now deceased Judas, the other being a man named Joseph Barsabbas “who was also known as Justus;” we know that both men were considered longtime followers of Jesus; and we know that they were both, as Peter described them, “witnesses with us to his resurrection.”  But beyond that, all that we really know is that following some prayerful consideration that the Lord would show them the right candidate, lots were cast (which was an ancient form of election and was pretty much as it sounds: small stones or even sticks were used, but it essentially was a roll of the dice (!), in the belief that God had already chosen the right person and so this is how it would be revealed!), and the “lot” fell on Matthias “and he was added to the eleven apostles.”

And after that he was pretty much never heard of again!  Seriously, Matthias’ name never comes up again in the Book of Acts or anywhere else in scripture; and historical records regarding his life and times are sketchy at best: some traditions hold that Matthias preached the Gospel to “barbarians and meat eaters” (and by “meat eaters,” I mean cannibals) in the interior of Ethiopia, while others maintain that Matthias was in fact stoned to death by religious authorities in Jerusalem and then beheaded.  We just don’t know.

In truth, the best clue we have about Matthias comes the meaning of his name:  in the original Hebrew, his name would have been Mattithiah, which means “a gift of God.”  And actually, that kind of says it all: as brief as his appearance is within the gospel story Matthias emerges as a gift of God to this new church as it took its very first steps into an uncertain, yet very purposeful future.  In fact, I would go so far to say that Matthias represents for us today the difference between the church languishing and stagnating where it is, or else going boldly to where it’s supposed to go, following the leading of the Holy Spirit into new areas of ministry and witness; to go, as Jesus himself said it, to “be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”  (1:8) Matthias was in fact the first of many leaders in the church, disciples of Jesus Christ who were ever and always about the business of moving forward with doing God’s work in the world; which, when you think about it, might even include you and me!

What we find out from this little story from the Book of Acts is that from the very beginnings of the Christian church, there’s this tension that exists between, shall we say, continuity and order on the one hand, and innovation, creativity and change on the other!   I mean, the whole idea that there has to be a replacement for Judas – the details of whose bloody end is recorded there in Acts but not included in our text this morning (!) – or that there needs to be twelve individuals as opposed to eleven in this inner circle of apostleship (which, by the way, symbolically links the apostles with the twelve tribes of Israel), not to mention the idea that Matthias had actually been part of their group for the whole three years of following Jesus:  all of this tells us that in the midst of everything changing all around them the disciples really wanted and needed some solid connection to their faith and tradition.  And that’s valid; in fact, it’s as true today as it was then – to quote William Willimon, “In order to serve Christ, we must become the body of Christ [and as such we] must be organized, must have form and continuity.”  That’s why, as broad and open and diverse as we seek to be in the church today, in the end what we do as te church – whatever we do – must be rooted in our biblical faith in Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior, and in the historical tradition of Christ’s church; anything else than that makes us just some random gathering of religious people… if that!

But by the same token, the Apostles also realized that they could never dwell in the past, especially in light of the fact that even in this moment “in-between” the risen Christ and the Spirit, they were being confronted by new challenges; so what were they to do now? I have to imagine that in all those days of “devoting themselves to prayer” there in that upper room this must have been the question weighing heavy on their hearts.  They all knew about Judas and the scandal he represented; but he’d still been, at one time, at least, “allotted his share in this ministry…” so what were they to do about replacing him?  Moreover, how long were they meant to remain in the upper room, and what about this so-called baptism of the Holy Spirit?  And how was all of this supposed to fit into being Jesus’ witnesses “to the end of the earth?” (1:8) In other words, where were they supposed to go from here?  They didn’t even have the luxury to fall back on a mantra of “we’ve never done it that way before,” because this was all untried territory; a brand new call toward an unknown future all crystallized in this seemingly impossible decision as to who should be the “replacement” disciple!  Given all that, casting lots almost certainly seemed a perfectly legitimate solution!

In the end, regarding that election (and probably everything else as well) they turned to God. “Lord, you know everyone’s heart,” they prayed. “Show us which one of these two you have chosen.”   But make no mistake, this wasn’t a situation of asking God “should we,” rather it was asking “how:” how do we best serve you, Lord; how do we make your will for the world and our very lives come to pass. It was going back to the source as a way of finding inspiration for a new age; and it was a spiritual discipline, one that required steadfast faith, trust in God’s will and purpose, great courage for the journey ahead, and utmost enthusiasm even and especially in the face of the world’s doubt, its negativity and even its persecution.

The story of Matthias is a story about how we move forward as disciples of Jesus Christ; it’s about transformation in the church and among his people for the sake of his kingdom. It’s about you and I being bold enough to step out into the world and into the future wholly as people of faith, even if we’re not entirely sure where that’s going to take us or how it’s going to happen!  Not that one step is all that’s required; more than likely, “we will get there only by a series of many small steps.” But that’s okay; for as Anthony B. Robinson, a theologian, author and pastor from Seattle, Washington, has written, “There appears to be something inherent within the nature of the gospel that values small things – the widow’s coin, the pearl of great price, the few seed that fell upon the good soil – small things that the world regards of low account.”  So remember, Robinson goes on to say, “as you are having [that] one-to-one conversation, as you are teaching the only two children who showed up for Sunday school [or] visiting the one sick person, [remember] that the Exodus from slavery began with one step toward the promised land.”  The point is that true discipleship takes that first, small cautious step, followed by a prayerful stance, followed by a few more small steps that eventually lead into a leap of faith!  The journey might well seem long, and uncertain at best; but this is how transformation happens, beloved, and this is how you and I become witnesses of our Risen Lord even “to the ends of the earth.”

Back in 1984 when I was ordained to the Christian ministry – itself the culmination of a long, relatively uncertain but very transformative journey – I received a very nice note of congratulations and blessing from a colleague of mine; and in that note, I’ll never forget, he wrote these words:  “This is quite a celebration that’s happening in your life.  What do you intend to do for an encore?”

Well, folks, 35 years later that’s a question I continue to ask myself both as a person and a parson, but most especially as one  numbered among the believers; and it seems to me a good question for any of us to be asking as Christians.  For we’ve been so blessed by God in Jesus Christ, gifted by His Spirit for life and living; we are restored, redeemed, renewed and empowered here and now; so in the face of all of that, what will we do as an encore?

I would hope and pray that we will take that to mean that we should go out there seeking to live good and godly lives in everything that comes to us in this life; that we can make a true difference in this world and in the lives of people around us, while always managing to hang on to our own spiritual values and the integrity that comes to that.  Likewise, I pray that it means that even the smallest and most routine pieces of business in and through our daily lives will be imbued with faithfulness and predicated on the desire to be witnesses of the risen Savior simply by who and whose we are; I pray that this comes through in our relationships with family, friends, neighbors and co-workers, and especially with the stranger we meet along the way.  But most of all, I hope and pray that it means that we won’t be holding back; but rather moving into an unknown future as true believers; as persons and a people embracing the life we’ve been given and facing whatever comes with hope and courage and love; and always with an eye set clearly toward the kingdom.

The Lord truly does know our hearts, beloved; and he needs you and me to be the Matthiases of this world, people who are bold enough take their place as Jesus’ disciples in whatever comes as the future unfolds, people who go wherever it takes to be a witness to his love, people who will know his Spirit as a guide and inspiration for the way.

How about you?  Are you a Matthias?  Are you a gift from God?  Are you ready to be a disciple for a new day?

Think about that as we go to the Lord ’s Table now…

…and let our thanks be to God!

AMEN and AMEN!

c. 2019  Rev. Michael W. Lowry

 
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Posted by on June 2, 2019 in Discipleship, Faith, Jesus, Sermon

 

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“And They’ll Know We Are Christians…”

(a sermon for May 19, 2019, the Fifth Sunday of Easter, based on John 13:31-35)

I first read about this a number of years ago, and apparently these days it’s a growing trend: several medical schools across the country are actually adding to its curriculum classes in something called “Medical Improv.”

What we’re talking about here are, in fact, acting classes in which medical students are taught theater arts and the skills necessary to improvise a scene; all this so that these new doctors might learn to  choose their words and gestures deliberately and have their interactions with patients become more empathetic, compassionate and thoughtful.  And furthermore, this according to an article in USA Today, “as accomplished actors, physicians who find themselves too swamped, stressed-out and suspicious to really feel any compassion for their patients can at least act like they care.”

Now, lest you think I’m simply picking on the medical profession, this article goes on to suggest that similar courses of study could easily be developed for all sorts of helping professions (I don’t know about you, but I can think of lot of occupations where this might apply!); jobs where the stress level is such that often the people in those occupations begin to distance themselves emotionally from the people they’re caring for, so often to the detriment of the care receiver.  In all seriousness, the hope is that by taking acting lessons these caregivers will be taught to respond as if they are emotionally connected to the people they’re helping; even if the best they can do at first is to simply to go through the motions.  Is it a case of, “Fake it till you make it?”  Maybe; but the idea is that perhaps, eventually, they’ll come to realize what they’ve been missing and genuinely feel the compassion and care that up till then they’ve only been acting out!

Actually, when you think about it, it’s not all that bad an idea; and I dare say it speaks to an issue far deeper than distracted physicians and grumpy tech support specialists!  The fact is, we are living in a world in which the predominant culture has become so busy, so fast-paced, so focused in the quest for achievement and yet so utterly impersonal in the effort that things like simple human compassion and care risks becoming displaced by the overwhelming nature of life and the drive to get things done!  Moreover, we often make decisions and set priorities – as persons and as a people – without any real concept of how our actions will affect others; we have let our differences of opinion not only divide us but weaponized us;  we have allowed the miracle of technology to become a poor substitute for true communication and as an excuse for not actually talking – or more to the point, listening – to one another; and we have sought to give our families the best of everything but in the process have neglected to teach them about the things in life that truly matter: honesty; integrity; respect for others, especially those who are different from us or with whom we disagree; and a clear sense of right and wrong.  In short, ours is a world where love is not always the operative choice; and make no mistake, what with all its own squabbles and divisions the church is not wholly immune to this, either.  Truly, what Jonathan Swift said back in 1711 sadly often still holds true today: “We have just enough religion to make us hate, but no enough to make us love one another.”

Understand, friends, that I say all this not to sound overly morose on a Sunday morning, but to suggest to you this morning that this idea of learning how to be “acting out the love” might well be in order, in the fervent hope that such love will take root in the darkest places of our lives so that it might grow and become genuine.  Indeed, given all that it’s up against in these times, the chance of true love prevailing might well seem unlikely; but then, that’s always been the nature of love, isn’t it: something good and positive and life-changing bursting forth in the face of the unknown. As someone has aptly said, “Genuine love always leaps before it looks.”

And friends, I think that this is what Jesus was talking about when he said to his disciples, “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another.  Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.  By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

It’s interesting to note that even though in the church we are very much still in the midst of our Eastertide celebration of the resurrection of Jesus, our text for this morning takes us back to that fateful night of betrayal and desertion, what we know as Maundy Thursday. So at this point in the passion story, Jesus has already spoken about the certainty of his death, he’s already foretold Judas’ betrayal and in an act of humble servitude he’s washed the disciples feet. The crucifixion is less than 24 hours away now, so in everything that Jesus says from here on out there’s this palpable sense of closure; particular in what he has to say to the ones who have been closest to him along the journey, his disciples.  And that’s understandable; after all, he’d been together with this group of twelve for nearly three years, and they would be the ones who would need to carry on after he was gone.  So not only were these essentially words of farewell, but as John relates the story it’s Jesus sharing just a few last words to them that could somehow communicate the wholeness of God’s plan. This goes on for a couple of chapters in John and is often referred to by Biblical scholars as the “Farewell Discourses,” but what’s interesting is that it begins with something very basic: that they should love one another!

Now, at least as they first heard it, this would have been a word very familiar to the disciples’ ears.  Even though Jesus referred to it as a “new” commandment, as faithful Jews the disciples already knew that the law came down to loving God and loving neighbor; as another teacher of Jesus’ time, Rabbi Hillel, had observed, “the rest was commentary.” So of course, Jesus; we should love one another.

But here’s the thing; Jesus wasn’t finished.  Jesus goes on to say, “Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”  And that was something altogether different. By adding this, Jesus was putting his disciples on notice that words of love alone won’t do the job; neither will simply and mindlessly adhering to some loose guidelines of fair play.  No… you are to love one another as I have loved you.  You’re to love with your whole heart; you’re to love with a firm commitment that translates to the way life is actually lived; you’re to love with action that is self-giving and self-sacrificial; you’re to love in ways that demonstrate healing and forgiveness and the utter willingness to offer up your own life if by doing so love will be demonstrated.

You are to love and to live… just like Jesus did.

And, friends… it still applies.  In fact, I would say to you that these four little verses in John’s gospel, almost incidental in their placement amidst the larger story of that fateful night, pretty much says everything we need to know about who we are as Christians and as the church.

What we need to remember from this text is that Jesus did not offer up these words as a casual suggestion, nor even as a credo attached to church membership; this was and is a true commandment for those who would follow Jesus.  As his disciples, we are expected to love one another as Jesus has loved us; truly, we are known as Jesus’ disciples by our love.  It’s not that we won’t fail in the endeavor; indeed, we have failed and we will again (as a cartoonist by the name of Jim Wetzstein has opined, it’s a “good thing that Jesus didn’t say, ‘I’ll love you the way you love one another.’ Because, man, then we’d be in trouble!”), but Jesus is clear that we can’t give up on the effort! What you and I do out of love, whatever we seek to do out of love – even when it falls short of the mark – ends up speaking volumes to the world about the one who has loved us, about Jesus Christ; our love brings Jesus Christ to a disconnected world.  Because love does not happen in a vacuum; just as we understand that a child cannot learn to be kind without having experienced kindness, the love of Jesus Christ is something that needs to be passed on from person to person, life to life, heart to heart.

But by the same token, in order to show this love of Jesus it follows that we need to have received it as our own.  And that’s why it’s crucial, especially in this world and life that has become increasingly disconnected from the kind of genuine love that finds its expression in true faith, that you and I be about the business of actively seeking out the kind of life that puts Christ at the center of it!  Do you remember the old story about the man who over the course of several years, worked to carve an elephant out of a big boulder in his front yard?  The neighbors kept asking him not only how he could possibly create something like that out of something as immovable and unchangeable as a rock, but also how he could keep at it for so long; and his answer was, “Well, I just chipped away at everything in that boulder that didn’t look like an elephant; and once that was gone, there it was!”

Well, likewise in a world where we’re literally surrounded and bombarded by that which would seek to pull us away from love and keep us from Christ’s presence in our lives, we need to keep chipping away at anything that doesn’t look like Jesus.  We need to get rid of the anger, and the hatred, and the prejudice and the envy that’ll fester in our hearts given the slightest opportunity; we need to let go of the old hurts, the past regrets and the lingering guilt that holds us back and keeps us from moving ahead with life; and we need to do away with anything in our lives that doesn’t look or feel like love. Because it’s only in doing that we can truly receive the love that Jesus has to give us, and thus be able to share it with the world.

“Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”  What an incredible thing it is to be known by our love; how wonderful to be recognized by all those around us as Christ’s true disciples because of our love.  And what a joy to belong to a community of faithful followers – the church itself – that is girded on such love. Love, you see, has the effect of transforming everything we do: in love, our children are instilled with a sense of well-being that they carry throughout the whole of their own lives and bring as a legacy to their own children and grandchildren; in love a spirit of true unity and acceptance grows where once there was division and exile; in love comes the awareness that every word, every deed, every decision made has the power to hurt or to heal, but that doesn’t matter because healing is the first and only priority.  In love, you and I are made true disciples of Jesus; can you imagine what could be done for Jesus’ sake? Can you envision what the world and our lives could be by God’s grace and by our love?

Well, I’m here to tell you this morning that it begins with… acting it out.  As I said before, it begins by loving and living… just like Jesus did.

What a shame that something as defining as faith we so often do by rote; how sad to find ourselves merely going through the motions.  The Christian life – our Christian life – is never meant to be anything less than our embracing of the whole power and wonder of life and living!  How horrible it would be to wake up in the morning and not say that “this is the day the Lord has made,” and not rejoice and be glad in it?  What a tragedy it would be for us not to seize that day for the sake of the Lord in loving one another as Jesus has loved us.

Friends, they will know we are Christians by our love.

Let us make sure that we show them who we are… by our love.

Thanks be to God.

AMEN and AMEN.

c. 2019  Rev. Michael W. Lowry

 

 
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Posted by on May 19, 2019 in Church, Discipleship, Easter, Jesus, Love, Sermon

 

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